


The Sense of Us

by flinchflower



Series: Slash Me Twice [27]
Category: Supernatural
Genre: M/M, Memories, Tessera, Wincest - Freeform
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2011-11-09
Updated: 2011-11-09
Packaged: 2017-10-25 21:03:15
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,336
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/274765
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/flinchflower/pseuds/flinchflower
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Prompt 27: We. John contemplates his sense of family.</p>
            </blockquote>





	The Sense of Us

**Author's Note:**

> Disclaimer: Not for profit, simply a writing exercise. Herein lies Dean/Sam slash, in an AU timeline where John did not lose his life. John appears in parental context only. Follows in series from previous prompts, but stands alone if preferred.

Sam and Dean have been Dean and Sam for as long as they can remember, or maybe Sam and Dean – the order just depends on which one of them spoke last, or got mouthier. John knows when their identity was formed. It was created in the year after Mary’s death, Dean’s year of silence, the year where John never heard him speak a single word.

Talking to Dean, as the four year old sat on his lap was one of John’s few comforts. He’d let Dean hold Sammy, knowing that the little boy would relax more, hoping that one day he’d relax into speaking again. He’d talk the day over with Dean, talk to him about Sammy, about the things a baby needed, explaining the world around the boys to him, to them. Sometimes he wonders if he said things that shouldn’t have been said to a child, if that’s why Dean aged so quickly, the spark of life in his eyes changing from the twinkle of a mischevous child to the snap of an adult who knows their life mission.

He suspects that the only reason Dean began to speak was hearing Sammy try and say his first words, when John explained that it would help the toddler understand if Dean could explain things when John wasn’t there, told the boy that sometimes he might have a take on things that John didn’t, that might help Sammy comprehend better.

John remembers his pride, watching Dean step up to the plate and defend Sammy at school, on hunts, at home – just matter of fact and with the weight of purpose that not many adults possessed, even. And his surprise, when Dean was threatened for the first time in Sammy’s presence, how his round-eyed little boy turned into an efficient fireball of action. They were different, his boys, and he always wished that Dean could understand the emotions behind the hunting better, and that Sammy paid better attention to the training. But together, they made a team.

It’s one of the reasons he failed to voice any objection, when it became clear that their partnership was more than anyone thought it was. He just watched over the years, as Dean flirted outrageously with the waitresses, kissing them, slipping a hand underneath their skirts, and Sam would roll his eyes and apologize for his brother. If it wasn’t for the nights where they’d thought he was sleeping, when they turned to one another to whisper and kiss, he wouldn’t have known. John was pretty sure that no one but Bobby knew, outside of their family, aside from Tess.

He just watched them until he was ready for the confrontation, and he still smiles over how shocked they were at his matter of fact acceptance. Truth be told, he still watches them, still looks at all the little clues about their partnership – who goes through a door first, who talks to the sources they come across, and most importantly, the way they look at each other when they wake in the morning. He’s asked that they keep things to themselves, the sex mostly, because no father needs to see his sons having sex – together or with someone else – and they know he’s always kept his own sex life extremely private for the same reason. But he’s still there when they wake sometimes, and the looks, the private smile that will sneak across Dean’s face as the frown lines of his often restless sleep fall away, the clearness of Sam’s gaze as the taut muscles of his body relax when he wakes snuggled up to Dean, the looks tell John what he needs to know. There’s never been any doubt between the brothers, nothing that’s lasted more than a few minutes, at any rate.

That’s why when Tess brings Sam back, he sneaks out to listen after they’ve gone into the bedroom. He’s pretty sure nothing’s happening, he overheard Tess tell Dean that there wouldn’t be any play until the reaction cleared his system. And what he does hear, it makes his heart swell. _I’m more of myself when I’m with you,_ he hears. He knows it’s the truth. He feels the same way about both the boys. They’re complete when they’re a family, and sometimes he wonders if they shouldn’t stick together to hunt, instead of splitting up. But he’s a good father, and the two of them are still growing up in some ways, and he knows they need their run of the world to do it, though he’s always going to be near to make sure he’s there to guide and comfort them, provide the best example he can of the men he’d like them to be.

He wonders every night when he wakes whether he’s making the right choices. He listens for a long while to the silence that followed Dean’s acknowledgment of Sam’s confession, the expressions of love hidden in their gentle words. It’s been an hour since he heard any sounds other than the occasional shift of a strong body in the bed, quiet breathing, and he ghosts up to the door, eases it open. Sam’s wrapped in Dean’s arms, his white clothing stands out in sharp relief from the navy of Dean’s. John can breathe with a little more freedom now, just like he always can when he checks on them, makes sure they’re safe and fine.

But this time, eyes blurred slightly with the emotions he’s feeling, he misses the fact that there’s two pair of opaline green eyes fixed on him, doesn’t see it until he blinks, until Sam shifts a little. He jumps a little, and not surprisingly, it’s Sam who speaks.

“Dad? Everything ok?”

Dean’s starting to tense up, and John murmurs an assurance that things are fine, and realizes when he takes a step backwards that the two of them are only going to worry if he leaves the room now. He sighs softly, and takes a seat on the edge of the bed, brushes Sam’s long hair away from his eyes.

“Thought you boys were sleeping.”

Sam frowns, but Dean’s arm tightens around him, and Sam knows it’s asking for his silence. “I understand,” his older son says softly, looking hard at John’s face. John’s a little embarrassed, caught out like this. A Marine never copes well with having his position exposed.

“Are you leaving?” Sam’s voice holds all the vulnerability that John’s feeling. He shakes his head.

“No, Sam, but I’m in the middle of some research. A couple days, maybe.” He pauses, watching them both relax, wishes that there was some way they could bridge the needs better, the need for himself to be independent, for them to grow, and the deep desire to be with his family. “You boys down for the night? It’s about eight.”

Dean stretches, contemplating. “No, we should get something to eat.” Sam shifts uncomfortably, not hungry after being upset over the sub’s situation, and Dean knows exactly what’s going on. “Yes, you too, Sammy.” They see John raise an eyebrow, and Sam elbows Dean – a slight mistake on his part, because it only strengthens Dean's resolve to out his brother.

“You notice he ‘forgets’ to eat, Dad, whenever something big goes down?”

John frowns, and Sam closes his eyes and slumps down onto his brother’s shoulder. Dean throws the covers back from their warm bodies, and lands a smack on Sam’s behind.

“OW! Dad-“

“Don’t Dad me. The two of you can quit necking like a pair of teenagers and come out to help me fix some supper. And if I see any of that nonsense about not eating, Sammy…” He lets the threat hang, and stands up. He’s not quite to the door when he feels Dean’s hand on his shoulder. Both boys are standing there, looking tentatively at their father, and he relents, pulls them both into a hug. _We’re good,_ he thinks, _our family_ , and then swats both of them to propel them towards the kitchen.


End file.
